


Mr. Midnight

by Shotgunpicksthemusic



Series: The Song Remembers When [2]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-26
Updated: 2015-03-26
Packaged: 2018-03-19 17:21:24
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,088
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3617985
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shotgunpicksthemusic/pseuds/Shotgunpicksthemusic
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Running a radio show famous for the brokenhearted ramblings of the lovelorn is a job Castiel is talented at, and it’s rare a caller manages to surprise him.  He just never expected <i>him</i> to call...</p>
            </blockquote>





	Mr. Midnight

**Author's Note:**

> Comments, constructive criticism, kudos are all welcome and adored!
> 
>  
> 
> Thanks to all who read, comment, and kudo. Y'all rock!

"That is the traffic, and thank you, Brandon! Remember, kiddos, it's raining out there, so don't be a freaking idiot and turn on those lights! I swear, it's an instant lobotomy, you just add water. We live in the rainy northwest, my brilliant friends, and the liquid sunshine ain't going anywhere soon. Well, looking at the time, it seems I'm out of it but not to worry, as I see our lovely Mr. Midnight here, waiting to take the mike from me. Until next time, my lovelies, here's the latest from Fall Out Boy!"

Castiel sighed heavily, watching Gabriel cue up the song and remove his headphones. He took a sip of his coffee, staring out the window at the heavy sheets of water that streamed down the side of the building.

"It's really coming down, ain't it?" Gabriel grinned at Castiel, tugging on his coat.

"It's been pouring all day and it's not supposed to let up," Castiel replied.

"Huh. Guess I'll swim home then." Gabriel finished pulling on his outerwear and tilted his head at his co-worker. "Should be quiet for you tonight. We didn't get very many calls."

"Maybe that's because everyone's too smart to call in and let you play with them," Castiel remarked dryly.

"Ouch, you wound me!" Gabriel staggered back with his hand on his heart, laughing. He followed the other members of his show out the door, waving goodbye to Castiel before the door closed on them, leaving the studio mostly empty.

This was how Castiel loved to work. Alone, at night, the studio a quiet hush around him. He only had a few people working with him, Mark who manned the board and routed calls, and Jason, who helped with tech, but most of the time, it was him and his audience. Mr. Midnight, they called him, and he guessed it was accurate, as his show started at midnight, but it wasn't truly descriptive. Castiel wasn't sure what moniker would be correct, though, as he was a mix of DJ, love advisor, and consoler.

His routine was set. Hang his jacket up, make a cup of coffee, slip into the booth. His deep, gravelly voice (deliberately made deeper for radio because it allowed him some anonymity) spilled over the airwaves as he welcomed his listeners to another Mr. Midnight show, inviting them to call in with their tales of woe. He always got a varied mixture of stories.

The calls came in steady, but slow. Requests for songs - he was playing a lot of sad songs, it was a heartbreak kind of night - interspersed with what advice he felt he could give. He counseled patience, taking care of one's self, and letting go of those who hurt you if you needed to. And still, the calls came in, 'play this song, please, he doesn't love me anymore and it hurts' and Castiel would. He would play the song, soothe the caller, and wait for the next broken heart. The night passed quickly and all too soon, his time was nearly up. Mark signaled that this would be the last caller and the long night would be over.

"And on the line we have someone who wants to remain anonymous. Mystery caller, what can I do for you?" Castiel took a sip of his coffee, waiting for his caller to speak. It wasn't unheard of that he wished to remain unknown, but it was a bit unusual. His usual callers wanted to let those who they dedicated songs to know who they were, loud and clear.

"Uh, hi, I guess."

At the sound of _that_ voice, Castiel choked, half spitting the coffee out, half swallowing down the wrong tube. He coughed, waving off Mark, who stood and hovered at the glass, watching him with startled eyes.

"You okay there, buddy?" His caller sounded concerned.

"Yes, I swallowed wrong," Castiel responded, his voice hoarse and deeper than usual. "What's your story? Who are you missing tonight?" And did he really want the answer?

_He was in love with Dean. That much was certain and it transformed his world. Castiel had never known anyone like Dean, anyone who smiled so brightly, laughed with their whole body, and loved so completely. It was circumstance that they even met, Dean, a popular athlete and Engineering major at school, constantly surrounded by friends, and Castiel, a quiet artist, who, although he had good friends, was definitely not the life of the party. He'd been taking pictures around the school for a project when Dean had walked right up to him, his smile warm and welcoming, and from that moment, Castiel was smitten. They hit it off right away, spending so much time together, they might as well have been dating._

"I used to have this friend. Well, more than a friend. I, um," his voice broke, and Castiel could feel a knot in his aching throat. He swallowed hard, staying silent, willing the caller to continue. "I miss him so much. Like living without him? It's grey and horrible and it hurts."

_Dean said he loved him! Castiel was in the clouds, happier than he'd been, ever. He loved to snuggle next to Dean -- although Dean said he only snuggled to make Castiel happy, of course -- and holding hands, sharing sweet, slow kisses thrilled him. He wanted to take it slow and Dean was patient, and Castiel counted himself so lucky he had such an amazing boyfriend. ___

"What happened?" Castiel's voice was amazingly steady, belying his thudding heart, the nervous squirming of his stomach. Should he tell his caller who he was? That he'd recognized Dean's voice the minute he spoke? He had never really recovered. He'd dated here and there, but Dean was truly the 'one who got away'.

"I was so fucking stupid. Oh, shit, I'm sorry!"

"Live radio has its drawbacks," Castiel said with a slight chuckle. "Just watch the language from now on. I don't wish to incur fines, or worse." He paused for a moment, taking a steadying breath. "You said you were stupid? How?"

"Yeah, sorry. So, this guy I was with, we dated. And I loved him. I still do, if I'm being honest, and I wish we were still together. But he was different, and I was young and stupid, and I pushed him away. Nothing's been the same since."

_"Why not, Cas?"_

_"I'm just not...Dean, I love you."_

_"You love me but you won't **be** with me." Dean rubbed his face, turning away from Castiel. "Is it me? Do you just not want **me**?" he asked quietly._

_"No, Dean, no," Castiel said, moving forward, reaching out. It hurt so much when Dean pulled away, folding his arms around himself, closing off, shutting Castiel out. "I'm just not interested in sex. With anyone."_

_"But the kissing, holding hands?" Dean shook his head, glancing at Castiel._

_"That's different. I love that, I love being with you." He bit his lip. "I love you, Dean. Please, can you accept this?"_

_"I don't know, Cas. I just don't know."_

"Different, how?" Castiel pressured.

"He didn't want to have sex. And I was this asshole of a twenty year old. I wanted him, I wanted to make love to him, and it felt so personal when he said he didn't want me. I know now, I mean, I'm older and I know some people are just, you know, different." He laughed ruefully, bitter and short. "I threw away the greatest thing, the love of my life because I was thinking with my dick and not my heart."

_"Dean, please, I love you."_

_"I know you do, Cas. But I need more, and you can't and I don't want to pressure you. I'm sorry."_

_Dean leaving was like his soul was being carved out. He didn't bother to hide his tears as he watched Dean gather his things, packing them swiftly without care. Dean slung his bag over his shoulder, pausing at the door, turning slightly._

_"I'm really sorry, Cas."_

_"Just go, Dean."_

_Castiel turned his back, hugging himself and holding back the sobs. Would anyone want him? Was he broken? He listened to the door shut and dropped on his couch, curling up, letting the sobs come out._

"What would you say to him now?"

"I love him. I wish things were still the same. I was so wrong to walk away from him. God, I was so idiotic and I can't take it back or erase the hurt. I don't know what song to play. I'm not even sure why I called. I just wanted..."

"Honey, who are you talking to?"

The female voice in the background was like a shock of cold water. Of course, Dean was with someone. A man like him had so many people interested. Even when they'd dated, Dean had had plenty of offers.

"It's all right, Dean. I'll play something for you, for your lost lover. Have a good night."

"Yeah, you too," Dean said, and then there was a click, and he was gone.

Castiel knew just what song to play and soon John Legend was crooning over the airwaves, telling Dean's 'mystery man' that 'all of me loves all of you'.

~~*~~

"Dean?"

Dean blinked at his mother, holding the silent phone in his hand.

"Are you all right?"

"I never said my name, Mom."

"Okay," Mary said, concern showing on her face.

"I never said my name!" Dean repeated, his grin growing. "Mom, I've got to go, I'm sorry."

"I'll keep breakfast warm, Dean." Mary watched Dean tear out of the house. She'd been worried about her son, at how he drifted from relationship to relationship, and had hoped that by visiting him, maybe he'd open up to her. She'd listened in on his call, only slightly ashamed at eavesdropping, so she had some idea of who it was Dean had been talking to, and had asked, hoping he'd open up to her, but this was good, too. Humming to herself, she went back into the kitchen and began to make more pancakes.

Dean drove faster than he probably should have, but he made it to the radio station just as Mr. Midnight was signing off and turning the airwaves over to the morning show. He charged inside.

Castiel was slipping his coat on when he heard a commotion in the lobby. Curious, he went to investigate.

"I just need to talk to him, that's all, I swear."

"Sir," the security guard said, "if you don't calm down, I'll escort you from the premises."

"It's all right, Scott," Castiel said, making his presence known. He walked up to Dean, searching his face. There were more lines around his eyes, he had more freckles, but his eyes were as beautiful a shade a green, his lips still full and kissable, and dear god, that scruff...

"Cas, it _was_ you." Dean swallowed hard, smiling weakly.

"How did you know?"

"You said my name. Can we talk? Please?"

"Your girlfriend doesn't mind?" Cas asked, and he was pleased his voice wasn't too bitter.

"My mom, Cas. That was my mom. She's visiting."

"Dean, I don't know..."

"Look, I know I screwed up. And if you're with someone, then, okay, I'll just say, to your face, I'm stupid and I'm sorry and I'll go."

Castiel shook his head. There wasn't anyone right now, but having his heart ripped out once was painful enough.

"I'm just asking that we talk, Cas, that's all. I understand now. I have no excuse for how I behaved, but I really want another chance, not gonna lie. But I'll take what I can get, what you're willing to give. Even if it's a kick in the ass out the door."

"And sex?" Castiel asked, regarding Dean skeptically.

"That's what the shower is for, dude. Trust me, I can 'handle' it." Dean waggled his eyebrows at Cas, laughing when the other man laughed. "So?" He held his breath, waiting for the answer, whatever it might be.

"You mentioned breakfast?"

"Yeah," Dean said, smiling in relief. He put his arm around Cas's shoulders, guiding him out the door. "Best you've ever had. Know the cook personally, you'll love her."

Castiel rolled his eyes, but refrained from comment as he followed Dean to his car. He met his gaze over the top of the Impala, smiling at him. A second chance, and maybe this time, they could make it work. It was worth exploring, he thought, as he felt Dean's hand slide into his.


End file.
